


St. Valentine's at the 'Guy Savoy' in Paris

by ALWrite



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Javert Lives, M/M, Post-Seine, Restaurants, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWrite/pseuds/ALWrite
Summary: St. Valentine's is coming. Traditionally, Jean Valjean takes his daughter Cosette out to dinner in an elegant restaurant. But this year, it is different. After all, there are a policeman and a fellow student who need to be considered, too.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Valjean, Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Javert & Jean Valjean, Javert/Jean Valjean
Kudos: 12
Collections: Les Misérables Kink Meme





	1. Chapter 1

_**Paris - 10 February 2021** _

Javert was on his way to Jean Valjean. Today the drive from the police station to Rue Plumet took endless. Traffic was a nuisance, and the constant 'stop-and-go', 'stop-and-go' of all the cars was getting on his nerves. _There were way too many cars in Paris!_

He switched on the car radio, but knew it was not likely to improve his mood. A few days ago, a winter blizzard had blown all over Paris leaving the streets all frozen and slippery. Accidents related to bad weather had rocketed. The people were advised to postpone any trips that weren't really necessary, and to stay in their homes whenever possible. The traffic police were up to their ears in work. _Thank God, he wasn't a traffic cop, but worked in the homicide department! That kind of work was much more harmless!_

"And now one of your all-time favourites... a song straight from the depths of the soul..." - Javert groaned and immediately changed the channel looking for some sober news. _No love songs, thank you very much!_ \- "French politicians have criticized the EU for delaying..." - _Oh no... no politics, especially not at the end of a long working day!_ \- "And for all you lovers out there, don't forget that Valentine's Day is only four days off! So, if you haven't got that perfect gift for your sweetheart yet, get going!"

Javert scoffed and turned the radio off. The traffic light ahead turned red and he slowed down and stopped. _That perfect Valentine's gift..._

He would love to find the perfect gift for Valjean... _Jean_ he corrected himself. The two of them had only recently begun to call each other by their first names. But there wasn't a chance he could ever find a gift that would fit. First of all, the man was so rich that any gift Javert could afford on his salary would be no more than a mere drop in a vast ocean. And even if he were to find a fitting gift for a day like this... it would only make sense if Jean Valjean felt the same way he did...

The light in front of him changed to green, but there was no chance to move anytime soon; some cars had slipped and were now blocking the crossroads. Their drivers would have to sort out who should move first in order to clear the way for all the other cars waiting. Predictably, some of the drivers waiting started honking their horns.

Javert rolled his eyes and switched the engine off. This would take a while. _No use in wasting gasoline and polluting the air._ He sighed and turned his thoughts back to Jean Valjean.

_Eight months ago Jean Valjean had saved his life. Javert had tried to shoot himself over a case that had been so twisted that it had ended up in a disciplinary enquiry against him. He had investigated organized crime. For months on end he had been working his heart out, but, naturally, he had had no chance against the limitless money that was available to his opponents. Evidence had been manipulated and fed to the courts, and it had looked as if he, Inspector Javert, had been the one to take bribes and to grease the wheels of an already well-oiled organized-crime machine - a rival organization to the manipulator._

_Jean Valjean - in his alias Ultime Fauchelevent, multi-millionaire and proprietor of several stores of high-value security electronics and head of three non-profit organizations - had testified for him. This testimony had, ultimately, decided the procedure in his, Javert's, favour. But Fauchelevent had done more than that. He had come to see him personally afterwards in his apartment and had kicked the door in just when Javert had wanted to pull the trigger!_

The cars in front of Javert were moving and Javert's hand moved to the ignition. However, one of them started too abruptly and slid across the road and onto the oncoming lane. Fortunately, the other cars were all going so slowly that they managed to steer around, slow down, and stop in time. Javert withdrew his hand from the ignition again and sank back into reverie.

_Now, eight months later, it was hard for him to recall the desperation that had motivated his almost-suicide. Everybody knew that dirt, once thrown at someone, always stuck. It could never be removed completely. Javert had believed that he would never get rid of the suspicions that had been voiced against him. And without a close friend and no family to fall back on in times of need, it had been the trigger for him to end his life and what was actually an incredible career in the Police Force._

_Seeing Ultime Fauchelevent bursting into his apartment and wringing the pistol out of his hand had been a shocking experience. So had the slap the man had given him when he had stayed frozen in shock and not been able to process what was happening._

Remembering the scene, Javert scoffed and shook his head. It was hard to believe what had come to pass, then and afterwards. 

_Ultime Fauchelevent had refused to leave Javert to the mercy of the police psychologist and had taken it upon himself to see him regularly. He had invited him and gotten to know him. What had started with odd get-togethers, continued to be regular evenings playing chess and talking about world affairs. Eventually, the time spent together had blossomed into a friendship._

_One of Fauchelevent's non-profits was helping juvenile offenders. Javert had given his expertise on juveniles ending up in jail time and again simply because their environment wouldn't give them a chance for a better life. The two men had talked in detail about this and found out that their life experiences were completely different. Eventually, in their efforts to convince their interlocutor, both of them had bared themselves to the other and talked about their pasts._

_Javert had confessed to Fauchelevent that he had actually been born to convict parents. In turn, Fauchelevent had confided in Javert and told him of his former jail sentence. He had been convicted at age 19 while still a minor, but with the help of the Church had managed to receive a new identity and to build up an honest life. Under his new alias 'Ultime Fauchelevent' he had managed to build up a prosperous business that had made him a millionaire. His real name 'Jean Valjean' was known only to very few people._

Finally! Javert turned the ignition and continiued on his way. He decided to go past l'Arc de Triomphe and along Champs-Élysées. The roads there were multi-laned and, hopefully, not as crowded as the smaller streets.

Alas, he was wrong. After passing l'Arc de Triomphe and driving along Champs-Élysées, he realized that a lot of drivers must have had the same idea. He passed the Élysée Madeleine... and was stuck in traffic again! But it didn't matter. He knew that to Jean Valjean he would still be welcome, no matter how late he arrived!

The traffic eased up a little and didn't require much of Javert's attention. And so, unbidden images from the last weeks popped up in his mind.

_Valjean... reading to him from a favourite novel, his hand squeezing Javert's shoulder briefly as he read out a particularly memorable line..._

_Valjean... laughing hard at his move that checkmated Javert..._

_Valjean... leaning over to hand him a glass of cognac; their fingers touching..._

_Madame Toussaint bringing in a dish of dessert and Valjean leaning in to whisper to him that he had asked Toussaint to prepare Javert's favourite dessert..._

Suddenly, the air inside the car was stifling hot and Javert let down the window pane. The incoming air was cold, really cold, but to Javert it felt like a soft and much-needed breeze. As so often, he was trying to find a name for the whirlwind of emotions that Valjean stirred up in him. 

_Were these the actions of a friend? Or was there a deeper meaning to them?_

Javert just didn't know. A lot of people were open and generous with their touches. Many people hugged and kissed, even when meeting others for the first time. It was quite common(*), although he had never felt at ease with it and had always been happy that these 'traditions' did not exist within the Police Force.

_But Valjean's... 'Jean's' smiles were directed at him in a way that made him feel all special... and also hot! In the solitude of his home, Javert had fantasized about Valjean. He didn't know whether or not to call his own feelings 'love', but they were undeniably strong. And it was undeniably impossible to voice them! If he did, and if he were rebuked, he would lose his only friend..._

_And so, alas, here he was arriving at Valjean's house without knowing what to do._

***

_**Rue Plumet, Jean Valjean's Apartment** _

It was almost eight o'clock. 

The house at No. 5 Rue Plumet was a small one, made for a bachelor or a young couple at the most. It was one of Valjean's favourite places to be and where he kept most of his beloved library.

Javert rang the bell and a short moment later Madame Toussaint, housekeeper and cook, opened the door for him.

"Good evening, Inspector."

"Good evening, Madame. I trust you are well. Is Monsieur Fauchelevent in?"

"Yes, he is. Come in. He is in the study. - Would you like a cup of coffee? I've just made a fresh pot."

"Thank you, Madame. That would be most welcome, indeed."

Javert walked into the living room. The door to the study was open and he could hear Valjean on the telephone. 

"Yes, a reservation for two persons. And I would like to order your special Valentine's menu, please..."

Javert's eyes fell on a flyer which was on the coffee table. _'St. Valentine's menu at Guy Savoy - special offer for Members Only - 650,- Euros all included'._

"My name? Ultime Fauchelevent. - Yes, the same. - Yes, I am a member. - My membership number? It's 24601. - No, that's not necessary. The usual will do very nicely..."

 _650,- Euros for a meal? Was that man insane?_ \- But then, Javert had to remind himself, Jean Valjean was rich - not just wealthy, but 'stinking rich'. A dinner for two for 650,- Euros wasn't really much money for him.

_Wait! What was it he had just overheard? Jean Valjean was booking a Valentine's menu for two at the Guy Savoy, the most expensive restaurant in all of Paris?_

The dizziness was suddenly overwhelming and Javert had to sit down. _It could only mean one thing: that Jean Valjean felt the same way about their relationship than he did. Perhaps he had wanted Javert to make a move first, and since he hadn't - hadn't dared to! - now he was booking the Valentine's menu as a gift... as an occasion to convey his feelings._

 _But the 'Guy Savoy' of all places -_ here, Javert felt a vague nausea coming up - _In such a place he would be surrounded by rich people in expensive clothes and having to pretend he didn't feel out of place..._

"Sorry, Javert, I was on the phone... hey, you look as if you could use a cognac. Rough day at the office?"

"What?"

"Your coffee, Inspector," Toussaint came carrying a steaming mug of black coffee. 

"Ah, thank you, Madame. This is most welcome."

Out of the corner of his eye Javert watched Valjean snatch up the flyer and put it in a white envelope. Then he tucked the envelope into the inner pocket of his jacket before turning around and facing him with one of his big, friendly smiles. 

"Javert, what are you doing Sunday?"

"This Sunday?"

"Yes, it's February 14th..." 

"I have a shift." The words came quickly, and they weren't exactly a lie. He did have a shift, the regular day-shift that ended at about five p.m.

"So when do you get off? Eight o'clock?"

"Earlier. - That is... if there is no urgent case."

"That's great. Would you like to spend the evening with me?"

"I... am.. you know... _Jean..._ I cannot promise anything. Not when I have to work..."

If possible, the smile was even friendlier now. "I understand. But I'd really like to see you... for dinner... or a late drink... or whatever..."

A late night drink... Once or twice, after they had talked or played chess well into the night, Javert had slept in the guest room. _There was no salacious meaning hidden in Valjean's words. Or was there? Was he making things up just because he dreamed of the man? If Jean really meant to take him to this dinner, then this meant that he was more to Jean than a mere friend, right? And if Jean were to invite him to a drink in his apartment afterwards, he might get a chance to tell him about his feelings... if he could find the courage..._

"Javert? What is it? You look miles away." Valjean waved a hand in front of his friend's face.

"Sorry. - I promise I'll join you as soon as my shift is over."

"That's great. I'll be looking forward to Sunday."

***

_**Cosette's Apartment** _

"Cosette, where is my blue shirt? You didn't put it in the wash, did you?"

"I am ironing it, actually."

Marius emerged from the bedroom and watched Cosette run an iron over his favourite shirt.

"I'll never understand why you do all these chores... and willingly... what with your father's money and all."

Cosette laughed. "Marius, you have no idea how refreshing it is to be able to live as a normal person."

"Yeah, maybe so, but why do you have to have flatmates? I mean, we could be much more comfortable here in your flat without them."

"You mean, then you wouldn't have to behave like a decent person every now and then, don't you?"

Marius grinned. "Maybe. It's a pity my place is so small. Otherwise we could live there."

Cosette rolled her eyes, but he pretended not to see it. It was a well-worn argument. Cosette was outgoing and people-friendly, Marius was not.

He threw himself on the sofa in front of the telly. "Still, I'm looking forward to them all being gone on Sunday."

"Oh, that reminds me, Marius. I'll be gone a few hours Sunday evening."

"What? But it's Valentine's Day, Cosette! And you promised we'd spend the whole day together!"

"Yes, I promised to spend the _day_ with you. But not the evening. My father and I _always_ go for a Valentine's dinner at one of the posh restaurants in town. It's a family tradition. I just received his invitation."

"Your _father?_ You actually plan to have a _Valentine's_ dinner with your _father_?"

Cosette stopped ironing and looked at him. Marius was a sweet guy, but sometimes he behaved like a petuland two-year-old.

"Don't make it sound incestuous. I know, it is unusual. But my father and I have been on our own all our lives. It was always just the two of us. And when I became a teenager and started asking questions about boyfriends and romance, and what a man should do to woo me... I don't remember, but it must have been February, and so my father had this crazy idea of taking me to a Valentine's dinner to show me what that would be like. And it was so nice that we've done that ever since." She chuckled at the memory. "My first Valentine's dinner with Papa was at the 'Jules Verne', if you can believe it."

"What - the one in the Eiffel Tower?"

"Yes," she nodded, "first we were having a drink - I had a milkshake - in 'Le Comptoir' where you can see the engineering of the Tower. You can see those huge wheels as they are in constant motion... it was fantastic! And then we went to the Main Dining Room and I had my very first glass of champagne there and my very first taste of caviar!"

Marius grinned. "Caviar, eh? Not the spoilt rich girl at all, are we?" But suddenly he became serious. "Are you saying you will not spend Valentine's Day with me?"

"No, Marius. All I am saying is that I will have Valentine's dinner with Papa. It's a Sunday, my love. We can still spend the whole day together doing whatever we want... as long as I am at the 'Guy Savoy' by 6 p.m."

"The 'Guy Savoy'?" Marius gave a wolf whistle. 

"Yes. Papa asked me to be early. It seems he has something else lined up later that evening. Which is just as well. I am sure you want me to return to you for the night, don't you?"

Her sarcasm went unheard. Marius' thoughts were elsewhere. "You haven't told him about us yet, have you, Cosette?"

Cosette put the iron down and looked straight at him. "No, I haven't. Papa was so busy those last months, there just wasn't the right moment for it. - But I will."

"Oh yeah? _When exactly?_ "

"On Sunday. I will tell him that it is our last Valentine's dinner together, and that from now on there is someone else to take me... to dinner," she added when she saw Marius's broad grin at her words. "Papa will be surprised, perhaps even disappointed, but I am pretty sure I know what he will say." She picked up the iron again. "So you better be prepared to meet him in person sometime early next week."

Marius smiled to himself. _The 'Guy Savoy'... Sunday evening... dinner starting 6 p.m. ... Well, he would give Cosette and her 'date' an hour to enjoy their food, and then he would show up, introduce himself to the fearsome millionaire father and stake his claim to the man's daughter..._


	2. Chapter 2

_**The 'Guy Savoy, Paris', 14 February 2021, 6:30 p.m.** _

"More champagne, Madame?"

"Yes, thank you."

Cosette watched the waiter fill up both their glasses.

"It's good to have you all to myself," Ultime Fauchelevent told his daughter, "You have been on the run from me lately."

"Oh, Papa, that's not true! I just had a lot going on. You know, there is this German girl who is struggling with her studies, and I promised to help her. We meet quite often. And then, I am still regularly dropping in at the Agency's office to help with our 'Avoid Addiction' project."

"You are still involved with that, even now that you are studying full-time?"

"Of course. I promised them, Papa, and it only takes a few hours a week." Cosette spoke lightly; it really wasn't a big deal for her.

"That's good of you, Cosette."

"Don't smile at me like that, Papa. I am not a heroine. Lots of people do volunteer work. And many of my fellow students have part-time jobs, so that they can afford to study. They work much harder than I do."

"Yes, and lots of others just throw themselves at life and neglect everything else... what? Why are you laughing at me, Cosette?"

"Because, Dear Father Mine, you are such a bad example yourself. Building up the branch of your business in Cherbourg while still devoting time to your juvenile offenders' programme... and on top of that raising a teenage daughter and... do you remember our first Valentine's dinner?" she suddenly interrupted herself.

"At the 'Jules Verne'?" her father asked, "the one where you couldn't stop talking about the Eiffel Tower and its mechanics for a whole week afterwards? How could I ever forget that?"

"And do you remember that when I asked about the man after whom that restaurant was named - Jules Verne - you told me that he was a writer and you promised to read his books to me?"

"Well, you kind of blackmailed me into it, dear daughter. I had given you a free wish for Valentine's, remember, and you used it up for this."

"It was wonderful! All those fantasy-adventure stories... the strange worlds and stranger inventions..."

"You were twelve, if I remember correctly. You could have read those stories by yourself."

Cosette smirked widely and leaned forward across the table. She whispered, "Are you ready to hear a secret, Papa?"

Her father put down his cutlery and leaned forward, too, whispering, "Yes."

In a normal voice, Cosette said, "I had already read them. But it was so nice to have you read them to me aloud for weeks on end!"

Her father feigned surprise and anger at her words. "What a maleficent little girl you were! Shameful!" Then he gave a sneaky smirk. "I already knew that you had read them, Cosette," before picking up his cutlery again and resuming dinner. 

Cosette was surprised. "You did? Really? How?"

Her father chuckled. "There was a character in one of the books; I don't remember which one it was. But at one time, I feigned surprise and asked 'Who is that'?, and you told me that it was so-and-so, you know, Papa, the guy who did this-and-that... And because that information was still to come, I knew that you were having me on. You just did it so we could be close." 

His voice had turned a bit wobbly at the end, and he quickly occupied himself with his food.

Cosette's eyes had filled with tears at her father's words, and when his voice threatened to betray him, they spilled over. "I never guessed. You are right. I just wanted you close. I was twelve and supposed to grow up - everybody told me that; my teachers, my trainers, even Toussaint. I just couldn't let go of these evenings when we would cuddle up under the blankets and you would hold me in your arms, my face close to your face so I could see the pictures in the book..."

She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth, subtly moving the cloth to both eyes. 

Her father cleared his throat and took a sip of his champagne. "I remember that I was so busy, it felt that I didn't have any privacy at all. Sometimes, I would just drop lunch or dinner - or both - in order to gain more time for what needed to be done that day. Being forced to be home with you at a certain time in order to fulfil my promise and read to you was keeping me sane. When you were cuddling up to me I remembered what it was all for, why I was working like a madman."

Cosette reached out with her hand and her father caught it in his and brought it to his lips...

Cosette tried to make light of the situation that had gone from nice and warm to 'I-want-to-hug-you-but-I-cannot-because-we-are-in-public' in a heartbeat. "By the way, Papa, why did you tell me we have to meet so early for dinner today? You got something lined up for later?"

In all their life together, Cosette had rarely seen her father blush. But blush he did. He avoided her eyes and played with the stem of his champagne glass instead. 

"Papa...?"

"Huh? - Oh, sorry, dear. For a moment, I was just thinking..." His face was burning, but it was out of the question that he would admit to that.

"Of what? Or should I say, _of whom?_ "

A relieved chuckle escaped her father's mouth. "I can't hide anything from you, can I, Cosette?" He took a deep breath and his fingers played with the finger of her hand. "There is someone."

He wasn't sure how she would react to such earth-shattering news, and it came almost as a shock that his little girl started laughing. "Really? You have a lady-friend coming over tonight, Papa? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Well... am..." In his embarrassment, he took a quick sip of champagne... and promptly choked on it. His daughter was, if possible, even more amused by this.

After some coughing and pondering as how to best answer her question, he simply said, "Yes, I _have_ someone who comes over later tonight. And not a 'lady-friend', as you put it. But a very good... _a very dear_ friend. He is the reason why our dinner had to start early and shouldn't go on for more than..." - he he checked his watch - "well, perhaps another hour at the most." 

" _He_ , Papa?"

Her father nodded. "Yes. It's the Inspector I already told you about."

"The one you play chess with?"

"Yes."

"And he is coming _today_ of all days?"

Bashfully, her father nodded again. "So, you see why I am anxious that we do not extend this dinner to much."

"Papa, that's wonderful! When is he coming?"

"I don't know. He is working today, but he'll come after his shift - provided that there is no urgent case. So I am not sure when exactly he'll show up tonight."

"What if he is early? He shouldn't have to wait for you. It's not fair of you to betray your love with your daughter."

"What do you mean, 'betray', Cosette? - Cosette, you don't think that the two of us... that we... you know...?"

"Don't you?" Cosette was surprised. "You sound as if you are in love, Papa."

"No!" The word was a pure expression of the panic he felt and Cosette understood it as such.

"Do you mean to say that you haven't told him how you feel about him?"

"No, I haven't."

"But why not, Papa?"

"We are friends, Cosette. The man is a respectable Inspector of the Paris Police Force. He is a very serious and... well, respectable... ahem... man..."

"Papa...!"

"If I tell him... I mean, if I say something," he gave a deep sigh, "if he doesn't feel the same about me, then I lose my best friend. And this is something I just cannot risk. He is too important to me, Cosette."

 _Oh, this older generation with its self-created problems!_ Her father sounded like he was in a real dilemma, but Cosette was sure that there must be some way out of it. _What if she took it upon herself to inform said Inspector of her father's deep feelings for him? - In spite of her busy schedule, this was a project that she would just LOVE to undertake! - Bur first things first. After all, she had to get a bit of information of her own across..._

"So this will definitely be our last Valentine's dinner together, won't it?" she asked smiling.

Her father gave an audible sigh. She was right, but he didn't really know what to say.

Cosette laughed. "That's good, you know."

"It is?"

"Yes, Papa. You see, I, too, have someone waiting at home. He wanted me to be with him the whole time today, but I had to come here. After all," her voice became quiet, "it's not so easy to just ditch an old family tradition, is it?"

Her hand which still rested in his, was softly squeezed back. "And who is the young man you are talking about? Am I going to meet him?"

"Not tonight. But I warned him that you would want to see him soon."

"Quite so."

The waiter appeared with a wine bottle. "Would Monsieur and Madame like some wine with the dessert?" They both declined.

The waiter took the plates. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"Not quite yet," Cosette answered him, "in a few minutes, please."

"As you wish, Madame."

With the table cleared, Cosette's second hand gripped her father's. 

"I'll go now, Papa."

"Already? Are you sure, Cosette?"

"Yes. Have a wonderful evening with your friend."

He smiled. "I will. And you be careful with yours..."

Cosette laughed and winked. It was an old joke between them: Her father was allowed to 'wrestle' with his friends however he wished, but she - being a girl - had to be 'prepared' when getting physical...

They both rose from the table. Cosette took her shawl. "I love you, Papa. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, little girl."

He kissed her cheek and she left the restaurant. The moment Cosette had gone, the head waiter appeared.

"Monsieur, is there anything wrong..."

"No, no, nothing at all," his guest assured him. "My daughter has an urgent appointment, that is all. We both enjoyed our meal very much."

"But you haven't had all your courses yet. Would you like me to arrange for your dessert, Monsieur?"

"A moment, please. I'll need the restroom first." 

While their guest was gone, one of the waiters who had not noticed that Cosette had already left cleared the table of crumbs, laid out the cutlery for dessert and filled both champagne glasses anew.

A few minutes later Valjean appeared, having cast off his 'Ultime Fauchelevent, the millionaire'-behaviour and intent on paying and going home. He just needed to collect his jacket which he had hung on the back of his chair. 

There was someone sitting in Cosette's chair. It was a man, sitting rather stiffly... he wore a police uniform.

"Javert?"

The man turned and rose. "Jean..."

"You are really here..." A feeling of warmth rushed through Valjean. A moment ago, with Cosette gone, he had felt alone. Now with Javert here, some part of him, dormant for years, was coming to life. He sat down in his chair, his plan to leave forgotten.

"I couldn't come any sooner..." Javert started to say, but broke off. He had never been able to tell half-lies. The truth was: he had almost chickened out. He knew that Valjean had booked the table and the menu, knew that his friend wanted to spend the evening with him, but he had been afraid.

On his way over he had tried to rehearse a few phrases to convey his feelings in a manner that might neither embarrass Valjean nor render him a total fool, but his efforts had not been successful. In the end, he had decided to simply place his trust in Valjean. After all, the man knew him well and he would never willingly do anything to humiliate or dishonour him. - And so, here he was!

"I am really glad you are here," Valjean said smiling at him. Javer took the champagne glass - Cosette's glass, but Valjean didn't realise it. "À votre santé, Jean."

"À la votre, Èmile."

They toasted each other. 

A waiter came and put two desserts in front of them. "Would you like some Sherry with the cakes, Messieurs?"

Javert was a bit confused. _Starting with dessert? Those posh restaurants really had a strange way of doing things. But then, why not? He liked sweets, and he didn't feel too hungry, anyway. Must be because of the butterflies that had fluttered in his stomach all day..._

When the waiter had served the Sherry and Valjean was just about to ask how Javert knew where to find him, a gong sounded and brought the conversations at the various tables around them to a standstill. On the nearby stage, a spotlight was switched on and a man appeared.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am your host for tonight. There are three numbers altogether, the first one..." - here he had to consult a little card - "the first one is a love song. The song is called 'Up Where We Belong', and it is specifically for the couple at table 16."

"Table 16... that's _our_ table," Valjean whispered. Javert nodded and looked at the two singers, a man and a woman in festive outfits, wondering what the song was about.

There was a little applause when the couple bowed, but mostly people were just continuing with their food.

**_Who knows what tomorrow brings_ **   
**_In a world few hearts survive_ **

Javert gave a start at the mention of 'survival' and looked at Valjean - only to find that Valjean had been observing him.

 _Javert must have booked this song as a surprise for him. That was why he was here in the restaurant..._ Suddenly very happy, Valjean smiled widely at his friend.

Javert, in turn, was calmed by Valjean's smile. _Whatever that song was about, Valjean must have chosen it to convey something... And weren't those first lines already were fitting? After all, 'survival' had been the first, the 'key' moment of their relationship..._

_**All I know is the way I feel** _

_The way you feel,_ Javert thought, _WHAT do you feel, Jean? Are you as scared as I am to talk about this? Is this why you arranged for a pair of singers to say it for you?_

_**The road is long, there are mountains in our way** _   
_**But we climb a step every day.** _

_How very true,_ Valjean thought, _friendship at our age and with our different pasts wasn't easy to find. But slowly and steadily we did find it. And so we will with whatever comes - step by step._

**_Love lifts us up where we belong  
Where the eagles cry on a mountain high_ **

At that line both men looked at each other, neither one shying away from the other's gaze.

**_Some hang on to 'used-to-be'_ **   
**_Live their lives looking behind._ **   
**_All we have is here and now,_ **   
**_All our lives, out there to find._ **

The truth of the lines hit both men hard. They were both at crossroads, and it would be up to them whether they were courageous enough to move on - or 'live their lives looking behind'. 

At the words 'here and now', Valjean nodded and looked at Javert again. 'All our lives, out there to find' made them both smile. _Yes, they wanted the same. Yes, they were ready to go out there to find... whatever life awaited them... together!_

**_The road is long..._ **

Never mind the mountains... they were ready. Their mutual smiles said as much. 

Valjean mouthed _'Thank you'_ to Javert who shook his head lightly in response. 

When the song was over, there was a short moment when they both felt that they had bared their hearts in public. But nobody had paid any attention to them. There was a polite round of applause from the present patrons and then everybody resumed their own conversation.

"I could never have said it like that," Valjean admitted, "You know it, I can be very clumsy with words."

Javert smiled a bashful little smile. "I am sure I could easily outdo you in this, Jean."

"Is that why you booked the song instead?" Valjean asked smiling. "It was a wonderful gift. Thank you."

Javert frowned. _What?_

At that moment, a young man whose face was almost completely hidden behind a huge bouquet of roses arrived at their table. 

"Monsieur Fauchelevent... I am here to tell you that I love your daughter. Cosette, this song was for... _where is Cosette?_ " The young man dropped the hand that held the bouquet and stared at the two men with his mouth open. His hair was tousled and his bow tie was askew. 

_Who was that ninny?_ Javert meant to rise in anger, but Valjean's hand on his arm stopped him. Then he slipped into his 'Ultime Fauchelevent, the millionaire'-personality. 

"My dear young man, Cosette has gone to her lover, one 'Marius Pontmercy', I believe."

"But that's me!"

Javert rolled his eyes. _What a ninny!_

Ultime Fauchelevent raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Ah... is that so?"

He turned to his dinner date and shook his head in mock-concern. "Young women are so independent and self-reliant these days, wouldn't you say, mon cher?" 

Javert, who had been full of admiration for his friend's histrionics, almost choked on the term of endearment. It was the first time that Valjean had ever done something like this, and Javert felt a wave of warmth run through his body. _It was... nice... to hear Jean say the words._

Jean winked at him and he gave a small smile in answer. He might not be as good an actor as Jean Valjean, but he wasn't above taking the young man for a ride.

"Yes, young women are not easy to handle nowadays," Javert said to back up Valjean.

"I believe you better go to her," Valjean said to Marius, "so she doesn't have to wait for you any longer. She shouldn't wonder where you are, not on Valentine's Day of all days."

"Oh..." the young man seemed to come to his senses. "I... am... thank you, Monsieur Fauchelevent. - You are Monsieur Fauchelevent, aren't you?" he addressed Valjean.

Javert shook his head in desperation and buried his face in his palms. _It wasn't young_ women _who were strange these days..._

"It's okay, young man," Valjean said friendly, "I think we should meet over a less formal dinner some time soon. And don't worry, Cosette has told me about your relationship. Now be a good boy and run off to her, you hear? - Oh, and take that bouquet with you," he pointed to the flowers when Marius took his words literally and meant to turn and run.

Marius snatched the flowers, gave a somewhat unfortunate bow and ran out. 

"He reminds me of a headless chicken..." Javert said.

"Would you be cooler in his situation?" Valjean asked. "After all, he was meeting his girlfriend's father." He laughed out loud. "Must be absolutely intimidating. I am glad I never had to face this in my whole life." 

He had a point, and both he and Javert laughed. Then Valjean raised his hand slightly. Immediately, the head waiter appeared.

"Yes, Monsieur?"

"The young man may have left behind a bill. Naturally, I will pick it up for him."

"Merci, Monsieur." The headwaiter gave a perfect bow and left again.

"You know, Javert," Valjean said, "I am beginning to like the boy already."

"What - that ninny?"

Valjean laughed. "Ninny or not - he is responsible for the two of us finally admitting our true feelings for each other - through a song. Isn't that so?"

Two hazel eyes looked deeply into two blue ones. 

Javert smiled and nodded. He raised his glass. "To you, Jean." 

"No, Émile, to both of us."

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY TO ALL YOU LOVERS OUT THERE!
> 
> This is a fill for the kinkmeme prompt (Round 2): "Modern AU where Cosette and her Papa go out to dinner every year for Valentine's day. The problem this year? A policeman and a lawyer are tagging along, and SOME PEOPLE just can't keep their hands to themselves... so J/VJ and Cosette/Marius.
> 
> Dear Readers, I put this at the end, because not everything in the prompt was covered and I didn't want to disappoint your expectations.
> 
> The lyrics quoted belong to the song "Up Where We Belong" (Joe Coker and Jennifer Warnes) and recorded for the Movie "An Officer and a Gentlemen".

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies to everybody who knows Paris: While Rue Plumet does exist, Javert's route at the beginning of the story is a total fantasy.
> 
> (*) Please remember that we are in France. There it is still common, even for men, to greet each other with hugs and/or kisses.


End file.
